My Starfish

Hello, friends.

The other day, I wrote a blog post entitled "The Little Boy and the Starfish." I'd recommend you read that one before you read this one, because I'm going to talk about my starfish, and if you haven't read the previous post, you'll be confused.

Okay, here we go.

My starfish wears a lot of pink. She is a My Little Pony fanatic who can tell you everything there is to know about the Mane Six (and everyone else). Whenever someone enters the house, she instantly wants to play My Little Pony with them, and she will gladly play it for hours or even days at a time. Just ask Melissa or Lindsey about their recent visits to my house.

My starfish does not like homework. She doesn't mind school, but she does mind schoolwork. When she's decided that she's done for the day, that's it, and nothing her teachers say can change her mind. I seem to be the only one capable of getting her to finish her homework, and it's not exactly easy for me. She lies about it frequently and only tells the truth when I threaten to take away swimming privileges at the Y.

My starfish loves my dog, and my dog loves her. My starfish also loves little kids. She helps in the nursery on Sunday mornings and is slowly but surely learning that taking care of kids is different from being friends with them. She likes being in charge. When she plays with other kids, she sets the tone of the games.

My starfish doesn't act her age. She chews with her mouth open, shouts and screams when she gets excited or frustrated, cries to garner sympathy when things don't go her way, only uses proper hygiene techniques when forced, and has trouble thinking outside the box. When she could pick anywhere to eat, she wants McDonald's. When I ask where she wants to go to celebrate a special event, she says Wal-Mart. Those are the places she knows she likes, and she would be content to never go anywhere but those two places ever again.

My starfish is creative. She doesn't just watch movies; she watches movies, listens to the songs in the movies, creates dances for the songs, and then performs them for anyone who will watch. My starfish likes to read; her favorite series is "Pony Pals," an old favorite of mine when I was younger. My starfish can make pancakes and sew pony dresses and play a mean game of Skee Ball.

A year ago yesterday was the day I met my starfish, and I wouldn't have things any other way.

The Little Boy and the Starfish

Hello, friends.

We live in a scary world. Every day we hear about new tragedies, here in the US and around the world. Just last week here in Enid a newborn baby was found dead in a dumpster. It's still unclear how the poor child ended up there.

I often find myself feeling overwhelmed. There is so much wrong in the world. How can we have hope?

Have you ever heard the story of the little boy and the starfish? It goes something like this:

A man was walking along the seashore. Hundreds of starfish had been washed up on the sand. As he walked, the man saw a little boy picking up the starfish one by one and throwing them back into the ocean. 

Walking up to the boy, the man asked, "Why are you throwing them back? Look at how many there are. It won't make any difference."

The little boy thought for a moment, then shrugged and threw another starfish into the ocean. "It made a difference to that one," he replied.

We can't solve all of the world's problems, but that doesn't mean we can't make a difference. I don't know how that poor baby ended up in a dumpster last week, but can you imagine the difference just one person could have made?

The story of the little boy and the starfish is one that foster parents often refer to; there are so many foster children, and we can't possibly help them all - but that doesn't mean we shouldn't help the ones we can.

However, this story isn't just meaningful to foster parents. I challenge you, as we enter the Easter season, to look for the people you can help. You can make a difference. Don't lose hope.